“𝗜𝘁’𝘀 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗜’𝗺 𝗲𝗶𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗾𝘂𝗲𝗲𝗻… 𝗼𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗼𝗿𝗽𝗵𝗮𝗻.”

A 25-year-old client said this to me, exasperated. They were explaining a familiar cycle in their relationships—either being in charge or simply vanishing, hoping someone would come and find them.

I asked, “And what do you receive from being the queen?”
They shrugged. “𝗜 𝗱𝗼𝗻’𝘁 𝗴𝗲𝘁 𝗵𝘂𝗿𝘁. 𝗜 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝘆 𝗼𝗻 𝘁𝗼𝗽.”

“And the orphan?”
“𝗜 𝗱𝗼𝗻’𝘁 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗯𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 – 𝗜 𝗰𝗮𝗻 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗰𝗿𝘆 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘀𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗹𝘆 𝘄𝗮𝗶𝘁 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗲.”

I hesitated and spoke softly,
“What if both positions are about power—but in different costumes?”
“Meaning?” They asked
“𝗢𝗻𝗲 𝗴𝗶𝘃𝗲𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗽𝗼𝘄𝗲𝗿 𝗼𝗳 𝗯𝗲𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗶𝗻 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗴𝗲, 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝗸𝗲𝗲𝗽𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗲𝗹𝘆. 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗴𝗶𝘃𝗲𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗽𝗼𝘄𝗲𝗿 𝗼𝗳 𝗮𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻, 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝗸𝗲𝗲𝗽𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗳𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝘁𝗮𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗽𝗼𝗻𝘀𝗶𝗯𝗶𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘆 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗹𝗶𝗳𝗲.”

That hit. Their eyes expanded. Silence.

In that moment, we started to label something deeper. The “queen” embodied the energy of toxic masculine power—commanding, effective, yet constructed on control and veiled abuse: “If I go and take what I desire, I don’t need others as they can’t be ever trusted to meet my needs.” This behavioural pattern involves:
• Control to prevent vulnerability
• Exploitation without remorse for affirmation and status
• Domination to shield from shame
• Use of Power to keep others small
The “orphan” carried the energy of toxic feminine defenses—emotional, alluring, but built on manipulation and victimization: “If I’m hurting, someone will come and save me.” This pattern involves:
• Use of seduction to be needed
• Emotional manipulation to avoid rejection while still getting needs met
• Playing innocent to influence others without being confronted
• Blaming others and victimising self to escape accountability

We don’t usually label this side of the feminine—because it’s buried beneath softness. But it exists. And just as the masculine will become unfair when it’s afraid of intimacy, the feminine will implode or induce guilt trips when it’s afraid of being held accountable. 𝗧𝗵𝗲𝘀𝗲 𝗽𝗮𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗻𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲𝗻’𝘁 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗱—𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘆’𝗿𝗲 𝘀𝘂𝗿𝘃𝗶𝘃𝗮𝗹 𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗴𝗶𝗲𝘀. And they get practiced until we’re not even aware they’re optional.

𝗧𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗮𝗽𝘆 𝗶𝘀 𝗮 𝘀𝗮𝗰𝗿𝗲𝗱 𝗿𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗲𝘇𝘃𝗼𝘂𝘀 with the buried, fragmented, or even feared parts of ourselves. Not to banish them—but to see what they’ve been doing for us… and what they’ve been stopping. This is the work of growing up—not merely aging, but integrating. Embracing the seductive and the domineering. The manipulative and the forceful. And learning to be in power with ourselves and others.

We all have these patterns.
What is important is whether we remain unconscious to them—or begin making other choices.
How have you witnessed these dynamics at play?

-Written By Anisha Pandya